faderift | OPEN: The Western Approach

OPEN: The Western Approach

WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: The Western Approach is a terrible place. You should definitely go there.
WHEN: Bloomingtide 15 onward
WHERE: The Western Approach
NOTES: This is open to everyone. Characters who would not happily go to the hell desert probably have to go anyway; it's a war, not a vacation.

Once these wastes were a land of plenty. Can you believe it? The rain came north over the Gamordan Peaks, turning the plains green and verdant for three months of the year. Eight hundred years ago, that changed. During the Second Blight, darkspawn spilled out of an enormous crack in the earth, corrupting it with their foul blood... and it never recovered, even after they were driven back underground. The Grey Wardens built Adamant Fortress to stand watch over that chasm, but eventually even they abandoned it to the wind and the biting sand.

What few of us eke out a living in this Maker-forsaken place do so knowing that any number of deaths await us: darkspawn raids, dragons, bandits—not to mention starvation from the lack of water and game. If we stay, it is because we know there are treasures buried in the bones of this place, ruins from the time when Tevinter ruled, and even earlier. We pass tales around our campfires of the things we have seen shrouded in the dust storms. My favorites are the ones about relics that could restore the Western Approach once more... but I don't believe them. Truth be told, on nights when the wind is calm, I can stand on a hilltop and see for miles in the moonlight over a stark beauty of which no other Orlesian can claim to know the equal. On those nights, I hope it will never change.

—From Lands of the Abyss by Magistrate Gilles de Sancriste

I. THE DESERT

When Scout Harding calls somewhere the worst place in Thedas, that's probably a bad sign. Even when nothing in the Western Approach is deliberately trying to kill you, there's nothing kind or forgiving about the landscape: bare and arid, carved through by sharp-dropped canyons, dotted with abandoned mines and signs of the deaths of lost travelers. Winds sweeping through to whip stinging sand into uncovered faces, and periodic dust storms obscure visibility entirely. It's warm enough to be dangerous but not so hot, at this time of year, that heat exhaustion and dehydration can't creep up on you while you aren't paying attention.

And at any given moment, something probably is deliberately trying to kill you. The food chain in the region is top-heavy, with quillbacks, phoenixes, hyenas, and varghests roaming hungrily and as likely to attack one another as the sparse local prey population. Compared to their natural competitors, the Inquisition's forces look like easy marks. The camps the Inquisition scatters at lookout points throughout the region require constant watch, and going anywhere alone is inadvisable. Not only because of the hostile local everything, but also because it is incredibly easy to get lost. One rock formation looks much like another after hours in the sun or bathed in shifting moonlit shadows, and good luck finding many other landmarks. There are a few: chunks of pillars or arches from some ruined structure, or the occasional odd pillar that might, if someone investigates, prove to mark a trail of sorts.

Plus: the only people who seem determined to survive out here are cutthroat bandits and stray Venatori. Double-plus: a high dragon makes occasional fly-bys, scouring the ground below for anything edible, armored or not.

Some reprieve comes at night, relief from both the sun and the area's primarily diurnal predators. But that's when the darkspawn come out.

II. GRIFFON WING KEEP

Bloomingtide 16-17: Taking the Keep

Only a small force of Tevinter cultists remains in Griffon Wing Keep when the Inquisition arrives, seemingly on their way out the door already, but the sight of Inquisition banners is enough to make them stay and fight. There's no need for siege equipment, but there is call for a little bit of patience. With it, a small battalion is able to evade the mages and archers on the walls and storm the doors with few casualties. Fewer than three dozen warriors wait inside. It's a quick, brutal fight; it only takes a night.

Bloomingtide 18 Onward: Home Away From Home

Once the Keep is cleared of occupants, it's ripe for the Inquisition to… occupy… But with implicit permission, at least. Those who aren't needed for fights elsewhere may be put to work clearing out debris and small animals and the remnants left by the cultists, and within a few days the fortress is a serviceable outpost, much more hospitable than the camps out in the sand. Barracks mean even those who don't have beds at Skyhold may have one here, and it takes less than a week for an enterprising merchant to arrive with ale.

III. THE STILL RUINS

Despite signs of recent activity, the lavish Tevinter palace tucked incongruously into the canyons is quiet and still, when the Inquisition discovers it—quiet, still, but not empty. The ancient ruin is brimming with demons and Tevinters in incredibly outdated fashions, all frozen in place, as they have been for hundreds of years. No one breathes or blinks, but their skin is still warm and alive to the touch.

Beyond the entryway and halls and through the courtyard, there are signs of research and experimentation, and one man stood unmoving with his hand clasped around something unseen.

Perhaps someone will discover the cause. Perhaps someone will undo the spell that's been cast over the palace. Perhaps, if someone does, someone will take the opportunity to not immediately murder all of these valuable sources of ancient information, and instead only murder most of them. In the meantime, however, it is unlikely that anyone will ever be able to get this close to a rage demon without receiving a face full of fire. Take advantage.

IV. CORACAVUS

Signs of the Venatori point upward: up the hills, up ladders and towers, and into the ancient Tevinter prison, Coracavus, that was built into the mountainside. The ruin is filled with sand now, with half-collapsed walls and anything not made of stone worn away by winds, and the Venatori are long gone, their hunt for relics from the glory days of the Imperium abandoned when an excavation attempt opened the prison to darkspawn, instead. The darkspawn have retreated as well, but there are signs of their presence. Namely the smell and the half-eaten corpses of slaves—primarily elven and dwarven—who were left behind to their fates when the Tevinters fled.

There's no sign of them now, but digging through their abandoned camps may turn up a name, if anyone would like to see that he pays.

V. ADAMANT FORTRESS

A day's determined walk from the nearest Inquisition camp, Adamant Fortress overlooks the vast chasm—dubbed the Abyssal Rift—from which darkspawn poured during the Second Blight. It stood abandoned for nearly 150 years before the Grey Wardens' recent reoccupation, and it's abandoned again now, emptied out well before the Inquisition's forces arrive. There are signs that the retreat was a hasty one: scattered belongings, opened doors, abandoned meals, and no fewer than fifty bodies left on a mass pyre that only half-burned without anyone to tend it.

The Veil has always been thin here, and it's thinner now, where demons have been pulled through from the Fade. Rifts hang over the battlements and in the corridors, and escaped shades lurk in the dark corridors, siphoning away the willpower of those who linger until they come close enough to attack. Those who visit the Fortress set up camp outside of it rather than within it, wisely.

There are clear signs of blood sacrifice, for those who look: the bodies, blood stains on the stone floors, neat lists of names systemically crossed through. Sorting through documents left behind may turn up vague notes in a mage's runic shorthand or the journal of a trepidatious new recruit (Lourde, a pickpocket, crossed through on the registers). Behind a locked door in the lowest rooms are the bodies of sixteen mages, still in their Circle robes, left lying where they fell when the Joining took them. Mages who were among the rebels in Redcliffe may recognize a face or two as belonging to the hardliners who left with the Tevinters.

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The blue antaam-saar has definitely been the cause of many admiring stares on her part, her own in red. She hasn't been shy about showing off her well-toned form, either, glad to give Araceli a nice view as thanks. It's only fair, right?

Korrin smiles, not exactly shocked that Araceli's done her homework about the region, beyond what mercenary stories she could share earlier. This is hardly her first trip through the blighted desert. "I'll be sure to tell it that should we meet. And it's a desert creature, so it might not need all that much in the way of water. There are oases around, though, if you know where to look. I could show you if you want to cool off...?"

Definitely fair, same way that it was only fair Araceli wore the sort of dress and corset she did to the party since she was probably a good chunk of the reason why Korrin was there for so long when there was likely a much more fun party without the nobles going on elsewhere at the same time.

"Isn't it more fair if some others get their shot at the dragon? I am sure there are other Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth about Skyhold with lovers who might wish for teeth to make their own tokens." That's actually only a guess on her part but the thought of Korrin going charging back in against a dragon is maybe how Korrin feels whenever she thinks about Araceli getting involved in bardic pursuits, although Araceli will always argue that people are going to be far more predictable and easier to manage than a hulking monster of a creature. The mention of water perks her interest; Skyhold's hot springs are lovely, after all, but she misses real water, and real water to her tends to be cold. "I...I'd love that. It isn't the sea but the Fallow Mire was a stinking bog and Emprise du Lion was frozen, it's been a long time since I've been by real water."

There's a momentary pout at the notion of stepping aside when it comes to the prospect of dragonslaying, but Araceli does have a point. Perhaps Taashath will want to claim a tooth, or perhaps Taaranda for a future time. Or Lena might want one as a trophy. Given that she's on friendly terms with everyone but Iron Bull, Korrin can't deny them what's given her joy. So, she nods and smiles fondly at her love.

"Alright, you win this time. Taas was practically drooling at the thought of getting a dragon to slay earlier, and I can't deny him. He should get his chance, as should the others." There will always be more dragons and she finds them predictable enough, though there's no need on her part to continue. She can behave herself, honest. That perking up gets her smile to widen and she nods. "This is real water, quite cool in the shade, too. Other things will be drawn to those points, but it won't be difficult to drive them off. If it was, I wouldn't be mentioning it."

"Doesn't that make you worry about his intentions?" Spoiler: what 'weapon' does he really want to stick in the dragon, these are the real questions, Araceli is sort of asking them. Not that she will because she would rather make quiet jokes about it to Korrin instead but have fun looking Taas in the eye if he gets to fight a dragon Korrin. "At least Kain had a chance I think he would always try to jump at a dragon each and every time." Araceli can be reckless but despite what she might have said when she met, now that she's seen a dragon attacking their camp, she's in zero rush to see a dragon up close again if she can help it. Thankfully bards are called to deal with other matters on a much more regular basis.

"So long as they aren't quillbacks, most of the other things don't bother me but what I read about those made me feel ill, I confess."

That question about Taas gets a snicker out of Korrin, who pretends to consider it for a moment. "We were playing that 'I never' game a while back, and among that list of fuckable types, dragons never came up. But who knows....and Kain is a nutjob." Said affectionately, but still. "Running off without anyone at his back, he would've gotten himself killed. And now he's a Reaver, so that'll make him even worse."

Reavers are fucking crazy, okay. She may count many of them as friends, but still. "Quillbacks are nasty shits, but not unstoppable. If that's what we find, I can deal with them for the both of us. I'd bet on varghests, which are still damn annoying but whatever. It's worth the price to be able to soak for a while."

"If that happens again, I need to join in since the girl that grew up in the brothel probably stands a good chance of destroying an awful lot of you. We raced on the rooftops though, it's fun to have someone else capable of doing that so I hope he doesn't get eaten, too many people are still learning how to climb, or how to fall without breaking themselves." It makes her feel a little less lonely when she's up there at weird hours, because yes she goes up there for time to think to herself or better yet, time to simply exist with the wind in her hair but she used to meet people and run simply for the joy of it too.

"I am so very glad that our islands simply do not have the land for such big and nasty things to thrive upon them, though we do have very small dangerous things in the waters. Jellyfish and anemones and snails and snakes that have enough poison to kill you before you can get out, just one brush or sting or bite and you're floating face down." She looks a little too pleased with herself as she says that, just to see if Korrin will have some sort of reaction though she does make a show of adjusting her rapiers and tapping her throwing knives - she can fish them out here unlike the Fallow Mire.

Korrin shudders a little, remembering well of such things from her time on the sea or in the north. It's not nearly as extensive as Araceli's own experiences, but she's seen enough to know that being at sea isn't any safer than being on land, at times. "I've seen jellyfish. Nasty things, what they can do. I'll fight nearly anything, but shit that can take you out in one dose...that's just not right."

And it unnerves her the more she things about it, so back to that other topic. "If you want that game to happen again, I'm sure I can get plenty of dupes willing to sign up and see if they can beat you. It'd be entertaining, to be sure." There are some who might give Araceli a hell of a time, but she has no doubt her kadan can hold her own. "It's something to bring up once we've had a chance to cool off, eh?"

Quick as she can, Araceli flicks a finger against Korrin's arm, so the nail catches with a glancing blow that won't even sting. "Cone snails are so small no one notices, some aren't even the length of my thumb but I can't move fast enough for the dart but just so - out it goes, into a fish, or another snail, or whatever it thinks might be dinner or a threat. Enough venom in it to kill a grown man. Jellyfish with tendrils that stretch for miles down below or out behind them, so translucent you can't even see them but sirena you feel them, like being bathed in fire." What comes after isn't much more pleasant either, the vinegar baths, the vinegar bandages, feeling the wounds thump with the beat of your heart; Araceli loves the sea but she respects it too.

"You've never actually seen me play cards though, have you? You actually see me being honest." Which is sadly very rare, increasingly so now that she's becoming a bard where she can build something else over her skin to keep the 'real' Araceli safer. "Only if you help untie me," she says, coy as she pleases through lowered lashes. Like Korrin's going to have any problem with that though, it'll be helping her back into it that'll be the struggle.

Respect is wise and Korrin can't fault that, though she doesn't want to dwell on animals and their venom longer than need be. It reminds her all too well of what they might encounter in the desert, if they're not careful...and probably even if they are. So she'll just as soon turn her mind toward more pleasant thoughts. Araceli's words are a definite step back in the right direction, and she grins, her own fingers tracing those ropes along her arms.

"As you wish, kadan. One of my favorite parts, too." Any struggle will definitely be worth it, for the chance to savor her love like this. If only they were sent to more places where that attire could be worn without risk of freezing. But she'll take what she can get, and gladly. "I might need assistance too, if you'd be so kind."

"I could cut you out of yours, to save time." Not that she would, she wouldn't so rude to clothes even if there's more rope than clothes (she measured because she was curious, because she wanted to try to figure them out) but it'd be funny to see the reactions if Korrin had to go back to camp in just her trousers, arms folded. Maybe Cade would be around… "You know it surprised me? Finding out that people in the Qun wear things like this, I know about Tamassrans but for all the roles and the places, and the do this-do that, for all that it's hot up there?"

She shrugs with far more force than is required because the antaam-saar is supportive enough that she can run and fight in it no problem but she does make a show of jiggling where she stands as if to say 'how does anyone actually get any work done' because she knows what she would be doing up there.

"You're going to have to fish me out," she warns, because it's been a long time, and she misses the water something fierce.

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OPEN: The Western Approach

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